


Part 2: Of Love

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Series: The Synth And The Sentinel [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Murder, Blind Betrayal spoilers, Brotherhood of Steel - Freeform, Comrades in Arms, Developing Relationship, Disobeying Orders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Far Harbor (Fallout 4 DLC Location), Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Liberty Prime Kicking The Institute's Arrogant Ass, Loss of Identity, Love Confessions, Lust, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Pre-War Life, Nightmares, Nuclear Option Ending, Nuclear Weapons, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Sexual Tension, Suicidal Thoughts, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7864003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthony Kostin doesn't know it yet, but Danse feels just as awkward as he does when they're around each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Being Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> The fluff surrounding the circumstances of Anthony and Danse getting into their relationship, centering around Blind Betrayal and the fall of the Institute (BoS ending for Fallout 4). There's more action in this part than there was in Part 1, but I really try to stay away from writing fight scenes because I suck total dick at it most of the time :) Even so, I tried to make it dramatic and interesting and again, true to the personalities of the characters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse pulls Anthony aside to tell him about Cutler.

Good God, he was gorgeous.

Anthony bit the side of his tongue. Clad in his well-loved Brotherhood fatigues, there wouldn’t really be much hiding it if he got a hard-on, and that most likely wouldn’t end well. Turning back to the leg of his power armor, he silently breathed deeply through his nose in an attempt to calm his tingling nerves.

A few feet away, in the bay next to him, Danse was also doing some routine maintenance on his armor. But for some reason, whether intentional or not, he somehow was incredibly sexy doing it.

The sleeves of his orange jumpsuit were tied around his waist, showing a supremely well-muscled torso covered only by a grubby sleeveless undershirt that had once been white. His holotags bounced lightly against his chest whenever he moved, his forehead had the lightest sheen of sweat, and from his fingertips to his elbows was dark with grime. Every flex of his strong arms, every twist of his fingers tightening a bolt, made it harder and harder for Anthony to concentrate on the mods he was building.

Swallowing, he turned back to the upgrade he’d mostly installed into the leg. His suit had been T-60D, but was now almost fully converted to T-60F, which would protect him much better against the lethal hazards of the Glowing Sea. Hopefully that meant he wouldn’t be confined to the infirmary puking his guts out again after the mission was completed.

Still, his eyes kept wanting to drift back to the Paladin near him. If something didn’t happen, Anthony was going to have to find a dark corner of the ship to hide in so he could “take care of himself.” Danse was just too rugged and handsome for anyone’s good, certainly for Anthony. His heart was pounding in his ribs.

“Gah! FUCK!” he shouted as the blowtorch got too close to his hand and he burned a finger. Dropping the tool and hissing his breath in through clenched teeth, he clutched his left hand to his chest. “Fuck you, motherfucker! Fuck!”

Oh God, the hands that lifted him up belonged to the object of his desire. Danse’s beautiful eyes were filled with genuine concern.

“Knight, have you sustained injury?”

“I…” Anthony started to stutter. “Uh, yes sir, not too bad though…”

The Paladin’s thick eyebrows drew together.

“You seem distracted. Is something wrong?”

Anthony shook himself, regretfully pulling away. He wanted to curl into that broad chest, feel the softness of kisses against those full lips. Oh, God. He could feel blood starting to head for a very bad place.

“I’m going to the infirmary, sir,” Anthony practically screamed before hurrying away. He hoped Danse hadn’t seen his face reddening with embarrassment.

The Paladin’s scent was in his nose. A small amount of sweat, not disgusting or overpowering. Motor oil, industrial grease. Some type of strong solvent. Metal dust and smoke from the use of tools. They all mixed together, making the distinct but somehow pleasant smell that was Jacob Danse. It seemed like everything about him was perfect.

“Knight,” Cade acknowledged when Anthony came in. “Something wrong?”

“I just had a slip-up with the blowtorch,” Anthony replied, holding out his hand.

The medic leaned in to take a look, then clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“I’ve told you before fifty times, Kostin. You’ve got to wear gloves.”

“They make it harder to work,” he protested.

“And this doesn’t?” Knight-Captain Cade grunted in some amusement as he applied a salve and an adhesive bandage. “Hell, after doing this for fifteen years and all you stubborn Initiates and Knights always coming back with injuries you could’ve prevented, I feel like everyone’s mother.”

“You don’t have the breasts for it,” Anthony teased and they both laughed.

He easily got along with almost all the members of the Brotherhood. With a charismatic personality and flexible sense of humor, it was usually only Rhys, Kells or Maxson who ever got cranky with him for anything.

“Instead of looking at my breasts,” Cade grinned, “how about you get your ass back to your CO and do some work? I’m sure he gets sick of waiting for you after your little mishaps.”

“He’s busy with his armor,” Anthony shrugged, struggling to keep his face and tone neutral. He didn’t like thinking about Danse being annoyed at him.

The expression that crossed Cade’s face made him realize he’d given himself away. It was a look of wistfulness, amusement, and a trace of pity.

“Kostin… you’re just going to make yourself miserable. Jake’s a stickler for the rules.”

Anthony had never heard Danse referred to by any nickname before.

“How’d you know?”

“Kid, I’m a fifty-year-old doctor. I didn’t get to live this long by being stupid. Besides, he’s got PTSD, even if he won’t admit it. He wouldn’t really be able to… well, you know. Connect to anyone on a personal level.”

Anthony couldn’t stand it.

“Sir… since you know everything that everyone’s thinking at any given time, does he… I mean… how does _he_ feel about _me_?”

“I don’t know,” Cade answered without any irony in his voice. Anthony was surprised. “He never shares anything with anyone. Just comes to me with a headache sometimes, looking for painkillers. He doesn’t talk about himself or anyone else. Sorry, kid. If he’s got anything for you, he’ll probably never show it.”

“You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

“Why would I? It’s not my place. Besides, the two of you are one of our best teams in the field. I wouldn’t want to undermine a good thing like that.”

Anthony nodded. Then he frowned.

“Danse has PTSD?”

“Well… that’s our best guess. The man never sleeps and he always has headaches. I wanted to have him out of the field before now, but he wouldn’t agree to it. He’s one of Maxson’s most devoted soldiers and it’s killing him.”

“Hey... aren't you supposed to keep that doctor-patient confidentiality and all that?” Anthony queried.

Cade shrugged: “I'm not telling you anything that everyone on the ship doesn't already know.”

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted them. Of course, it was Danse. Anthony worried the Paladin had overheard them, but if that was the case he wasn’t showing it.

“Sir,” Danse nodded in Cade’s direction. He turned to look at Anthony. “Care to explain why you panicked, Knight Kostin?”

Anthony’s mouth went dry and his only response was a strangled cough.

“Ah, he just burned a finger,” Cade said casually, flipping his hand in the air. “Prob’ly just jumpy.”

The Paladin’s expression tightened and Anthony felt a stab of guilt, realizing that Danse _was_ annoyed with him.

“If you’re finished here, Knight, I advise you return to your armor. I have something to discuss with you once you’re finished.”

Oh, God.

That was the worst possible thing the Paladin could have said. He must have heard, and now Anthony was done for. He’d get a thorough ass-kicking and then assigned to another Paladin for inappropriate comments about his superiors, and Danse would never come near him again.

“Yes, sir,” Anthony croaked.

Anger and panic washed over him as he returned to the armor bay in silence. How could he have been so stupid to think he could hide his feelings from Danse? He wished that there was a super mutant nearby, just so that he could lie down in front of it and get a good beating.

“How severe is your injury?” Danse asked from behind him, the tone neutral and betraying nothing.

“Uh, not terrible. It’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Good. We need you at peak efficiency, soldier.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How close are your modifications to completion?” Danse enquired as Anthony reached the bay.

“I’m almost done,” he answered, forcing to keep his voice even. It would be humiliating for the Paladin to see how anxious he was feeling. “This leg is the last part, it should only be a few more minutes.”

Danse nodded before heading away. Anthony forced back a sigh; unrequited love was the most torturous thing in the world. Even a nuclear holocaust and 200 years couldn’t change that fact. Haphazardly lubing up the armor joints with a ludicrous amount of orange grease, Anthony started to not care about finding the warheads for Liberty Prime.

In the face of ending the Institute’s evil, all he could think about was Danse. He’d been in the grip of despair since awakening from his cryo-stasis, lamenting the apocalypse and the loss of his family. Then he’d met the small Brotherhood detachment in Cambridge, and as his affections had grown for the Paladin, he’d come to realize that maybe he could pull some good out of this mess.

Now, there would be no good coming out of it. All he wanted was to look into those warm brown eyes, telling Danse that he loved him. Their hands would be entwined and Danse, of course, would return the sentiment… and then belong to Anthony forever.

The Paladin was so much more than a rank and a suit of power armor. He was intelligent and brave, if awkward and a little shy with others when he wasn’t discussing tactics. He had such a fierce loyalty to his brothers and sisters that any enemy should fear his wrath if he felt they’d been wronged.

Even PTSD couldn’t put Anthony off. If anything, it just made him feel more strongly. He wanted to be there with Danse, to hold him, comfort him, help him sleep better. To prove to him that whatever he’d feared was in the past and couldn’t reach him anymore.

Anthony clenched his jaw as his hand slipped from the grease and he nearly pitched forward into his armor. Growling a little in his throat, he halfheartedly wiped away the excess grease and clamped the joint back into place.

Nobody knew it, but the calm temperament he had was really a well-practiced facade Anthony wore. In reality, he was a nervous wreck, anxious over everything and never certain if his plans would work out in the end. He had little confidence in himself.

“Come on, we should acquire some food,” Danse told him as he stood up from the floor. “We’ll eat while we talk.”

Well, this was certainly confusing. Perplexed, Anthony followed the Paladin to the mess so he could grab a generous portion of squirrel stew. Danse took a bottle of vodka and a brahmin steak off the serving counter before leading him down to the end of the deck and through a door to the right. Anthony was surprised to realize that it was Danse’s quarters.

“I wasn’t expecting this, sir,” he admitted, leaning against a wall with his stew and feeling too nervous to actually start eating.

“Well… it’s not anything concerning anyone besides us,” Danse replied. As he poured two shots of vodka with shaking hands, Anthony realized he was nervous, too. “Would it be possible to speak… off the record for a moment?”

“Sure,” Anthony blurted before he could stop himself. He’d forgotten proper respect for higher-ranking soldiers, but as Danse passed him the glass, he didn’t seem to care. The Paladin’s hands were still shaking and he downed his entire shot at once. “Er… wait, ‘off the record?’ That’s not like you, sir.”

Danse started to pour himself another shot.

“This is going to be difficult for me to say, so I’d appreciate it if you’d bear with me. When you were first placed under my sponsorship, I had some serious reservations about it. Despite all that, this has turned out to be a rewarding experience… for both of us.”

Dumbstruck, Anthony couldn’t say anything as he felt his heart rate quadruple its speed. He listened silently as Danse continued following the second shot.

“At this point, honestly, I don’t feel like there’s anything else I could teach you about being a Brotherhood soldier that you don’t already know. It’s apparent from your attitude and your actions that you intend to keep those ideals close to your heart.”

Anthony frowned, and as the vodka started to seep in, he couldn’t help saying what he was really thinking.

“You’re beating around the bush. Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

Danse looked like he was about to choke on his own fear.

“Is it that obvious? I’ve… never been very good at these things. Let me start at the beginning.” The Paladin paused to take a long breath. “I grew up alone in the Capital Wasteland. Spent most of my childhood picking through the ruins and selling scrap. When I was a bit older, and had a few caps to my name, I moved into Rivet City and opened a junk stand. While I was there, I met a man named Cutler. We got along pretty well, watched each other’s backs and kept each other out of trouble. When the Brotherhood came through on a recruiting run, we felt like it was the best way out of our nowhere lives, so we joined up.”

Anthony realized he was holding his breath; he hadn’t been expecting this at all. As he started breathing again, his anxiety left him and he used the pause to satisfy a mild curiosity.

“Rivet City? Must be post-war, because I’ve never heard of it.”

“You’re right. It was a settlement built inside the remains of a beached aircraft carrier. One of the safest places to live in the Capital Wasteland until the Brotherhood arrived. It was the perfect location for me to try my hand at being a merchant.”

What an odd thought. The absurdity of Danse being anything other than a member of the Brotherhood made Anthony smile.

“I’m glad you had greater ambitions than just selling junk.”

Unsurprisingly, Danse didn’t smile back, though somehow he’d managed to look even more serious than usual. Anthony regretted his grin.

“Once I saw what the Brotherhood had to offer, there was no comparison. Anyway, about a year after we were posted to the Prydwen, Cutler vanished on a scouting op. It took some convincing, but I was able to persuade my CO to let me assemble a squad and search for him. It took almost three weeks, but we tracked his team down to a super mutant hive. Those wretched abominations had slaughtered everyone but Culter. He should have been so lucky. The mutant bastards used their FEV to change him into one of their own kind. He wasn’t Cutler anymore. I had to… it was my duty to… put him down.”

Bitterness, anger and regret all tugged at Danse’s handsome features. He was looking at his boots, fists clenched at his sides with the memory of rage.

“Are you sure there wasn’t anything you could do to change him back?” Anthony asked quietly, feeling uncertain he should even say it.

“The FEV effect is irreversible. There was nothing anyone could do,” Danse answered, his voice heavy with loss.

“You did the right thing,” he found himself saying, even though he wasn’t entirely sure. But he knew the Paladin needed to hear it.

“It’s what I was taught. I don’t know if it was right. Ever since Cutler died, I’ve seen other soldiers come and go. Some were brave, some were honest… hell, some were even downright heroic. But I’d never consider any of them to be a good friend, a friend like Cutler was… until now. It’s a good feeling, but it frightens me all the same. Having a bond with someone and then losing them… it changes you. I don’t want to go through that again.”

It took Anthony a moment to comprehend this. Most of the time Danse had been a closed book, and it was shocking to think he was the only one the man could think of as a friend. In spite of Decorum and various other rules, Anthony felt a ray of hope in his mind. Maybe Danse really could love him, if he didn’t already.

Even the small amount of vodka was enough to loosen him, and he immediately regretted what he said next: “It would never be that way with me… I care about you too much to let that happen.”

But he stopped regretting it just as quickly, because Danse had consumed a second shot and that must have been what elicited such an honest reply.

“I… I didn’t know you felt that strongly about our… well, about us. I’m sorry if I seem… confused. You’ve certainly given me something to think about. I just thought you deserved to know how I felt. If you feel that I’ve overstepped my bounds, I completely understand. Whatever the case may be, I appreciate the fact that you took the time to listen.”

Anthony nodded, feeling Danse’s usual social awkwardness fill the room again. But at least he knew what was really going on inside the Paladin’s head. Knowing that if he played his cards right he might have a shot at this, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Ad Victoriam, sir.”

Relief flooded Danse’s expression.

“Ad Victoriam, Knight.”

 

*

  
_“No, no, no,” he whimpered, balling his hands into fists. Adrenaline coursed him, and despite his knee, he sprang to his feet, grabbed the first thing he saw and threw it against the opposite wall, screaming. “NO!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Danse. That's really all I have to say right here.


	2. Scorched Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knight Kostin and Paladin Danse discuss the Brotherhood Codex as they once again tackle the Glowing Sea.

The Glowing Sea was just as ugly now as it had been a couple weeks ago, when Anthony and Danse had been there the first time. The sky was a putrid haze of green dust, blanketed over the stumps of trees 200 years dead. Their blackened roots twisted into the bare ground, packed hard and cracked. Nothing would ever grow here again.

After meeting with Haylen at a field outpost, they’d obtained the coordinates for a possible stockpile of warheads that Liberty Prime could use.

“Well, let’s do this,” Anthony said through the grille of his helmet, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He certainly wasn’t a fan of needing half a day to walk across this radioactive hell-hole. “Look on the bright side, after so much radiation makes our hair fall out, we’ll never need to comb it again.”

As usual, the Paladin completely missed the joke.

“I can assure you, Knight, that radiation sickness is no laughing matter. I thought you’d learned that after your last stint.”

 _Danse, I love you, but you have no sense of humor,_ he thought to himself as he rolled his eyes.

While sneaking across the barren wastes, Anthony despised the fact that they were moving slower than usual. But it wasn’t like they had an especially wide range of choices. In addition to cautiously avoiding the ridiculous number of deathclaws that infested the place, the Glowing Sea was blisteringly hot, even inside the protection of their armor. Moving too fast could make them pass out.

The ever-present _tictictictictictictictic_ of his Geiger counter was the only noise Anthony could hear besides the rumbling thunder of radioactive dust storms forming. Soon winds would carry them across the Commonwealth, drenching everything in a fresh layer of contamination. The white noise of it all was maddening.

“Danse?”

“Kostin.”

“Why are there so few in the Brotherhood who are married?”

He was asking to gauge the Paladin’s reaction for sure, but he was also curious on a general level.

“Because fighting for the Brotherhood is destroying threats to humanity’s existence, not showing off to attract a mate.” His voice was hard at first, but the next thing he said was more forgiving. “Besides… it’s encouraged to think of them as brothers and sisters for a reason. To… fall in love… and then to lose them… before Decorum was revised to put a stop to it, romantic relationships were the number one cause of suicides.

“Either someone would love someone else and it wasn’t shared, or they’d fall in love and break up, or one of them would die. The fact of the matter remains that it’s a fully preventable tragedy. And it was impossible to figure out a way to mitigate the potential for those situations that wasn’t so… harsh. Often, the brothers and sisters who are married, were already in that relationship when they joined.”

“But then they’re missing out on a part of life that could give them so much fulfillment and happiness,” Anthony remarked, unsure if it was a full protest on his part.

“It’s almost always better that way,” Danse replied, shaking his helmeted head. “It’s hard enough taking care of the mental health of soldiers without that added strain. Personally… personally, if there was anyone who I… cared for in that way, I don’t think I would be able to be in a relationship with… them.”

Danse had clearly been about to say something else. Anthony nervously wondered if it was in reference to himself, but said nothing as Danse continued.

“It would be a betrayal to the Brotherhood. And the pain of eventually losing them would be too much. I might not be able to serve after that.”

“So… if it happened to you, you’d be one of the ones Decorum was meant to fix?”

“I’m only human, Anthony.”

The Paladin had never called him by his first name before. It felt so good.

“But what if you didn’t lose them?” he wondered. “Wouldn’t it be worth it? I mean, I’ve been married, and I can tell you it is. Even though I _did_ lose Nora. It’s the worst, most soul-crushing thing that ever happens, but I wouldn’t give up the time I had with her for the world. There’s nothing like it.”

“In light of the fact that I’ve… explained myself to you,” Danse said slowly, “I will listen if there’s anything you want to get off your chest.”

“Well… she completed me,” Anthony struggled, unsure where exactly to start. “Even knowing about my family history. It was just… something shameful. China was the biggest Communist threat, nothing was worse than being Chinese. You got taken away, or investigated by the government. But being Russian wasn’t too much better. The only reason you could get away with it was because it’s not as obvious. The Chinamen, you could tell by their eyes, their hair. But Russia was a white country. They could hide better. If you got found out, though, well, your friends would disown you, you’d lose your job, get evicted.

“My grandparents’ grandparents came to America long before the Sino-American war, before we were enemies with China and Russia. Sure, they were treated bad back then for not being a ‘real’ American, but you know, it was nothing as bad as what we faced in my generation. And in America back then, you married your own. Russians married only other Russians. And that’s what saved me, really. Because my name would have been Turchakov. Such an obviously Russian name, I wouldn’t have gotten away with it. But my family name on my father’s side, Kostin, it’s harder to tell.

“Even though my family hid our heritage from everyone, my father was proud to be Russian. He wanted to name me Anton. My mother loved my father and she wanted to make him happy, but she knew that it would be damning for my first name to be Russian. So she called me Anthony instead, as a compromise. At home, when it was just us, my father would call me Anton. It made me feel close to him. And when I met Nora… wow. I was swept away by her. Such a gentle, loving person, there wasn’t a mean bone in her body. When she fell in love with me, I even told her, ‘my family came from Russia,’ but she was fine with it. She loved me for me, not for where I’d come from. And that just made me love her more.

“When Shaun was born… God. That was the happiest day of my life. Shaun Matthew Kostin, my father called him Matvey and I was fine with it. My family had taught me to be proud of my heritage, no matter what other people thought. I was… I was going to pass that on to him, too. My father would teach him Russian, just like I learned from my grandfather. Nora wanted to learn it, too, because she knew how important it was to me. We were going to raise him that way. And… he wouldn’t have ever had to feel insecure about where he came from… there were so many things I was going to teach him…”

Anthony’s voice cracked and he stopped speaking, grief clawing at his brain. Shaun had never learned Russian. He’d never been told about his family line, his ancestry. He’d been raised in the clutches of emotionless scientists. Now, though indisputably brilliant, he was practically a machine himself, cold logic and no feelings.

He despaired in that moment. There was nothing left of his son in that man, just interest in furthering technological goals without any care of the consequences for others. Shaun was Anthony’s kin in name only, now. His son, the infant boy Nora had carried into the Vault more than two centuries ago, was no more. For all intents and purposes, he’d died with his mother.

“You really loved your family,” Danse commented. Anthony wasn’t sure, but for a moment he thought he detected a hint of jealousy. “After being in the Brotherhood for so long, becoming so familiar with Decorum… I thought it was inevitable that if someone found a mate and then lost them, they were doomed to take their own lives. You obviously stayed for your son… but now that we know the truth… what makes you keep going? I… never mind. You don’t have to answer that, I’ve overstepped myself.”

“No, it’s alright,” Anthony told him. There was only innocent curiosity in Danse’s voice. “To be honest, I don’t know. I feel lost without Nora and Shaun… I guess the Brotherhood saved me. They’re my family now.”

While this was true, Anthony omitted the part about being in love with his direct superior. This wasn’t the time or place to discuss something of that nature.

“It does everyone proud when you say that, soldier.” Danse moved alongside as they marched to rest a hand on Anthony’s shoulder plate. “It makes _me_ proud, especially when I say I’m the one who sponsored you.”

“Well… thanks, sir.”

Even though Danse was wearing a helmet, Anthony could tell he was smiling.

 

*

 

 _At the sound of the object hitting the wall, Asher and Haylen burst into the room. Dimly, his mind recognized them shouting his name as they tried to subdue him. But he couldn’t respond any other way than beating them aside. Screaming incoherently in overwhelming grief, he put his fist through the EKG monitor._  

 

*

 

“I see them,” Anthony affirmed.

A few hundred feet away, two enormous black radscorpions sat idly near some lonely human remains that had been picked clean in the unforgiving climate. Anthony consulted his VATS overlay and figured he could take out at least one of them before they were noticed, or they could take another detour and spend more time soaking up rads.

“Danse?” he whispered, the question implied.

“There’s only two of them, tactically it makes more sense to kill them than to go around and risk an encounter with a deathclaw.”

So permitted, Anthony activated the VATS again before taking aim down his upgraded laser rifle and fired. The first shot hit, then the second, searing a gray burn into the radscorpion’s exoskeleton. The third struck perfectly, scorching its way through the creature and reducing it to a pile of glowing ash.

The second radscorpion noticed, and before Anthony could get another shot off it burrowed into the ground.

“Shit,” he hissed, reloading as quickly as he could.

He’d slid the fresh fusion cell in a mere second before the radscorpion burst out of the earth under his feet. Righteous Authority flew out of his hands as he was knocked heavily onto his back, the beast clamping its pincers around his helmet. He flailed his arms against it, but this feeble attack was nowhere near effective.

“DANSE!” Anthony screamed, beating his fists into the “face” of the radscorpion. He knew it was trying to crack his helmet.

“Hold on!” the Paladin shouted back, boots clomping against the cracked ground as he sprinted over.

Danse crashed headlong into the monster, wrenching it off of him. Its claw screeched against the metal of his helmet as it pulled free, and Anthony sprang to his feet as soon as he could, lunging for his dropped weapon. Scooping Righteous Authority from the dirt, he emptied half a fusion cell into the radscorpion.

Breathing heavily, he reloaded once he was sure it was dead and then helped Danse back into a standing position.

“Are you hurt?”

Even the thick helmet filter couldn’t disguise the genuine caring in Danse’s voice as he asked this. Anthony broke out into a smile behind his helmet, but tried to keep it from leaking into his words.

“No, sir. Thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary, Knight. We should keep moving.”

They began walking again. Only a few inches of space existed between them, and Anthony longed for the feel of Danse’s skin against his own. Thoughts of them holding each other and kissing leapt unbidden to his mind, and from there it was a short step to fantasize about lovemaking. In an instant he was suffering a painful erection that was hidden by his armor.

 _Oh God,_ he thought to himself as he imagined the Paladin reaching down through his pants to stroke him and nearly came inside his armor.

“How much further?” Anthony asked, trying to distract himself.

“We should arrive at the designated coordinates in approximately half an hour,” Danse answered.

“Alright,” Anthony nodded. He decided to joke again, even knowing that it would be over the Paladin’s head. “When we get there, can we take a nap?”

“If you weren’t up all night pleasuring yourself, you’d have the stamina to complete missions without naps,” Danse deadpanned.

Anthony felt his face burn inside his helmet before he realized that for once, Danse _had_ understood the joke, and was attempting to make one in turn.

“That was good,” Anthony grinned. “You’re learning.”

“I didn’t come up with it,” Danse chuckled. “I heard something similar said to an Initiate a few years ago and decided it was an appropriate response to your comedic remark.”

“Still, that was pretty good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, narrowly avoiding the deathclaws that seemed to be scattered everywhere throughout the Glowing Sea. Eventually, through the radioactive haze, Anthony could see an ominous silhouette growing easier to see with every step.

“Is that it?”

“It would seem so, yes.”

As they crossed the scorched ground, Anthony could make out that beside the building that was obviously the entrance to the bunker was a cluster of strangely-shaped concrete obelisks. He couldn’t begin to guess what they were for, but knowing what he knew now about the pre-war world, it was undoubtedly something sinister.

 

*

 

_Hands grabbed at his shoulders, trying to pull him back. But his powerful body was boosted by the adrenaline rush of outrage that this had happened. He easily tore away from them, grabbing the IV pole to pitch it in a random direction. The translucent plastic bag burst with a splash of clear fluid, leaving a puddle on the floor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter was a little shorter, but it also seemed like a sinister obelisk was a good note to end on.


	3. Tired Voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding the Mark 28 warheads, Anthony gets teased by Teagan, chewed out by Maxson, bored by Quinlan and bossed around by Haylen. It's just going to be one of those days where he gets ordered to execute his best friend; don't you just hate those?

The massive doors, now opened, revealed more crates than Anthony could count. His Geiger counter gave a slow _tic...tic...tic_ as they approached, but even so his face split in a wide grin. They’d found the nuclear stockpile. Certainly Liberty Prime did not need this quantity of Mark 28 warheads, but that just meant they had insurance.

Stopping before a large stack of crates, Danse shifted his laser rifle in his grip and turned to Anthony. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were pleased.

“Now that this site’s been secured, you should return to the airport immediately. I’ll remain on watch until the vertibirds arrive.”

“Was it something I said?” Anthony joked.

Predictably, Danse didn’t get it, and his face opened in an expression of surprise that he’d somehow offended his companion.

“Not at all, I just don’t have a choice. Elder Maxson’s orders were quite clear. I’m not to take my eyes off these bombs until every one of them has been counted, tested and loaded. If we want Liberty Prime to reach peak fighting efficiency, we can’t afford to lose this stockpile. Dismissed, Knight.”

Anthony paused for a second before nodding.

“Alright. Ad Victoriam, sir.”

“Ad Victoriam.”

Something settled into Anthony’s gut. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just knew something was about to go horribly wrong. Stepping onto the industrial lift and pressing down the button with his palm, his anxiety rose with it as he was carried up to the top floor. Taking another dose of Rad-X, he slipped his helmet back on and went through the doors out into the wastes.

The sun was setting by that point, so he was glad it didn’t take terribly long for the fleet of vertibirds to appear and set down at the facility. A mass of scribes in HAZMAT suits and Knights in power armor flooded out of them and into the building, and as they did Anthony boarded the vertibird that would take him back to the airport.

“So, how was it in there?” the pilot screamed over the deafening cacophony caused by the rotors.

“Standard,” Anthony bellowed back. “Mostly just ferals, but one of the loonies from the Children of Atom was there too. Convinced him we were going to spread his glory or something like that.”

The pilot laughed.

“Sounds about right. Hey, I heard Teagan got in a new shipment of hooch, throw a party!”

“Yeah, maybe we should save the party for when LP blasts the fuck out of the Institute!” he yelled.

“Heh, yeah! I guess you’re right! Even though we could get some good shit from their scientists!”

“Science can blow me! Those morons don’t know what they’re doing in there!”

His throat started to get hoarse from shouting, so they were quiet after that. When they landed at the airport Anthony simply jumped on the next vertibird that would take him up to the Prydwen, knowing the other one would head back into the Glowing Sea so it could transport nukes.

Loading his power armor into its assigned bay and assigning an initiate scribe to take care of it for him, Anthony pulled the hood of his flight suit down to his neck and began climbing the stairs. A thin sheen of sweat covered his entire body, making his underwear stick to him beneath the orange jumpsuit.

Reaching his bunk, Anthony pulled off his combat armor and tossed it onto the mattress before unzipping his uniform and peeling it off. The kiss of air felt good against his damp skin, and he sighed with relief as the uniform pooled around his ankles on the floor. Stepping out of it, he changed his undershirt and boxers, tucking in his holotags before throwing on his battered fatigue pants.

Wiping moisture out of his buzzed-short black hair, he tossed his armor and flight suit into his footlocker and kicked his boots under the bunk before descending the stairs again. The mess had fresh vegetable soup and sweetened tarberry juice when he got down there, both proven to rid the body of excess rads. He sat down across from Teagan, who had left the cage to get his own meal.

“Knight Kostin,” the proctor greeted him, his tone friendly. “I heard you found the stockpile Ingram was looking for.”

“Yeah,” Anthony nodded before taking a large bite of soup. Although it was bright green and looked rather slimy, the vegetable soup had a very mild, pleasant flavor and its starchy broth easily filled any soldier’s stomach. “Danse had to stay and baby-sit the nukes, but I bet he’ll be back in a few hours and start bitching me out for having someone else clean my armor.”

Teagan snorted.

“Yeah, Jake’s pretty by-the-books. He means well, though. You’ve got a good sponsor.”

“I know,” Anthony nodded. He took a gulp of juice between sentences. “He told me he was proud of me, even.”

“Damn! You guys engaged, then?” Teagan laughed.

Anthony fought to keep his face from turning red.

“No, I’m just that great,” he commented, trying to sound smooth and cocky. “Someday I’ll probably be Elder.”

“Don’t let Maxson hear you say that. Your ass’ll be under his boot so fast you won’t be able to ask your ‘boyfriend’ to protect you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Anthony insisted, an embarrassed grin spreading across his face despite himself. “Besides, he has no sense of humor, it makes it hard on me sometimes.”

“I’m sure Danse gives you plenty of hard-ons,” a pilot joked, sitting down as well. Anthony guessed he was one of Teagan’s friends.

“Guys, come on. I was married. To a _girl._ ”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” the pilot scoffed. “You pre-war guys. Always one way or the other with you… nah. I’ve banged plenty of chicks, and plenty of other dudes.”

Teagan chortled when Anthony turned as red as the warning lights on the flight deck. The two friends exchanged a high five.

“I’m not-” Anthony tried to protest, but a booming voice made the entire mess fall silent.

“Knight Kostin!”

Slowly and with a fluttering stomach, Anthony turned around in his seat to see Maxson of all people glaring down at him, his face livid.

“Sir?”

“A word, _Knight._ ”

Maxson practically spat the word like a curse, inviting no protest. Not that Anthony would have argued. Swallowing hard and wondering what he’d done wrong, he nodded wordlessly and followed the Elder. They ended in Maxson’s office. Anthony stopped and stood at parade rest, working hard to keep from trembling. His anxiety threatened to overwhelm him. Maxson turned around to face him.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me, Knight?” the Elder demanded.

“Sir?”

“I don’t appreciate being betrayed by my own soldiers!” Maxson roared, his temper flaring in his face. “Proctor Quinlan completed the decryption of the data you retrieved from the Institute. A portion of his findings included a list of synths that went missing or escaped from their underground facility.”

Anthony wasn’t sure where this was going, but judging by Maxson’s body language, it wasn’t anywhere pleasant. He was silent, letting his commander continue.

“After careful analysis, we’ve discovered something… unprecedented. Paladin Danse is a perfect match for one of the synths on that list.”

Anthony felt his heart leap into his throat. This couldn’t be true.

“The data must be faulty,” he choked out, barely finding his voice.

“The findings have been validated by multiple sources,” Maxson growled. His voice was as unforgiving as his face. “Quinlan wouldn’t have brought this to me if he wasn’t one hundred percent certain of the results. The data you brought back included a record of each subject’s DNA. We keep the same information on file for all of our soldiers. Paladin Danse’s DNA is a perfect match for a synth they called M7-97. To make matters worse, he’s gone AWOL. Disappeared without a trace. His sudden absence simply reinforces our conclusion that ‘M7-97’ and Paladin Danse are one in the same. I’m finding it difficult to believe that he never confided in you and then swore you to secrecy.”

Anthony suddenly felt anger swell in his chest, and against his better judgment he began to forcibly defend himself.

“After everything I’ve done for the Brotherhood, you have some nerve to accuse me of lying!”

To his surprise, Maxson looked slightly calmer after that.

“Hm. Your outburst leads me to believe I’ve misjudged you. I’ve decided to take you at your word. However, that doesn’t absolve you of your duty. Danse is a synth. He represents everything we hate… a monstrosity of technology. Our mission in the Commonwealth is clear. The Institute and its creations need to be destroyed in order to preserve our future. Which leaves me facing the most difficult order I’ve ever given. I’m ordering you to hunt down Danse and execute him.”

 _Execute him._ Those words made Anthony want to crawl into a hole and die. He needed a moment to collect himself before responding.

“I won’t do it,” he wavered. “Danse deserves a chance to explain himself.”

The previous ferocity he’d seen in Maxson returned instantly.

“You _will_ do it. This is not up for judgment or debate! I’m giving you a direct order, Knight, and I expect you to follow it without question!” Unexpectedly, he softened for a moment after that. “Listen. I’m not blind to the fact that Danse was your mentor and this isn’t an easy burden to bear. But if we’re to remain strong, we can’t afford to make exceptions… even when it means executing one of our own. Find Proctor Quinlan. He’s been analyzing the data and should be able to provide you with a starting point.”

Anthony turned to leave.

“And Knight... there’s a promotion for you riding on the results of these orders. So don’t disappoint me.”

 

*

 

_He swept both arms rapidly across the stained counter, scattering tools and causing a beaker to smash on contact with the floor. Asher and Haylen tried to restrain him again, but he still managed to knock them back. Asher flew backwards through the doorway, while Haylen stumbled over the IV pole and crashed into a wall._

 

*

 

 _Oh, God,_ was all he could think as he leaned over the railing and began vomiting again.

Anthony was out on the flight deck, still barefoot and in just his undershirt and fatigue pants. His holotags jangled in time with the heaving of his body. When he stopped retching for the second time, he wiped his nose and mouth on the back of his hand and once again forced back the tears welling up.

_Oh God._

Shivering and feeling more miserable than he’d been since waking up, Anthony stumbled up the short stairs and returned to the main deck. A concerned Initiate helped him to Quinlan’s office, and he had no choice but to sit at the scribe’s desk. His legs were shaking too much.

“Oh, Knight…” Quinlan turned to acknowledge his arrival, frowning at his paleness and tremors. “I was told you were coming. Sorry about this business with Danse.”

“What do you know about this situation?” he asked, his voice sounding much stronger and more steady than he actually felt.

“While I was decrypting all of the data you acquired from within the Institute, I came across a list. It appears that the Institute keeps exemplary records where their synths are concerned, including logging those that were reported missing. As I was perusing this list, I came across an image of Danse under the heading ‘M7-97.’ A quick DNA comparison with our own records told the rest of the tale. I’m certain this comes across as quite a shock to you, Knight. I’m sorry.”

Even though he couldn’t see any way out of his orders, Anthony refused to come to terms with murdering his comrade. Still, Quinlan didn’t need to know that. He struggled to force out a lie.

“He’ll be missed.”

“Doubtful,” Quinlan shrugged. “I wouldn’t ‘miss’ a synth any sooner than I’d miss a transistor radio. I was merely sorry that you’d been duped. No matter. I’ve been pouring over Danse’s duty reports and unfortunately, I haven’t found any concrete information. As you’re well aware, Danse had intimate knowledge of the Commonwealth and I’m afraid he could be seeking refuge anywhere. I think our best approach would be to identify every location he’s ever visited and eliminate them as possibilities one by one.” He sighed, neutral to the situation other than irritation at the inconvenience of hunting one of his former brothers. “You may want to get comfortable, this could take quite a bit of-”

“What the hell is this crap about Danse being a synth?” a female voice practically screamed, interrupting Quinlan. Anthony watched in surprise as Haylen burst into the room.

Quinlan’s expression of annoyance deepened.

“I assume your outburst was a reference to some doubt regarding Danse’s identity. I can assure you that my findings are quite accurate, scribe.”

Haylen’s angry face turned to Anthony, now.

“So he sets Danse up, and you knock him down. Is that it?”

Anthony fought the urge to throw up all over Quinlan’s desk as fear threatened to overtake him again.

“How did you hear about it?” he asked, struggling to sound calm and hoping that his visage didn’t betray him.

“There are no secrets in the Brotherhood,” she retorted hotly. “Maxson’s made it clear that we’re to locate Paladin Danse and if we find him, report his location to you. That can only mean you’ve been sent to hunt him down.”

Anthony swallowed, weighing how much further lying to Quinlan would cost him in Haylen’s eyes. If only he could talk to her alone and explain everything.

“I don’t like your tone, Haylen…”

“ _My_ tone? Who cares about protocol at a time like this!? I can’t believe that after everything Danse did for you, you’d just turn your back on him! There’s obviously been a mistake and we need to get to the bottom of it!”

Quinlan wasn’t having it.

“Scribe Haylen! You’re addressing a senior officer and you _will_ show him the respect that he’s due, or so help me I’ll have you brought up on charges! Now, unless you’re here with information that can assist us, I suggest you return to the police station immediately.”

Haylen seemed to shrink away a little.

“Of course. My apologies, Proctor. I believe I have some information that’s relevant to the search.”

An impatient breath snorted from the Proctor’s nostrils.

“Very well then, would you care to enlighten us, or do we have to wait until you decide to _grace_ us with your knowledge?”

She turned back to Anthony again.

“Knight, if you’d accompany me to the flight deck, I’d like to show you the information I’ve compiled firsthand. I’ve stored the data on my vertibird gunship’s computer.”

“Change of heart, Haylen?” he enquired, forcing a wry smile to hold up his lies.

“Just following orders… sir.”

Anthony turned to Quinlan.

“Proceed, Knight. I’ll continue doing my research here.”

 _You do that,_ Anthony thought to himself bitterly.

“If you’ll follow me, sir?” Haylen implored.

Unsteadily, Anthony climbed from the chair and followed her out of Quinlan’s office. It was all he could do not to breathe a sigh of relief-somehow, now he _would_ have the chance to talk with her in private, and maybe she could help him work out a way to save Danse.

Interestingly, they didn’t go to the flight deck, but rather the cargo hold. It was lit only by red emergency lights and the only thing present with them were crates of munitions. Haylen leaned heavily against one, and when she met his expression he could tell she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Scribe-” he started to say.

“Do you actually plan on killing him?” she demanded, her angry voice only just louder than a whisper so that it couldn’t carry to the decks above.

Anthony sighed, sinking to the floor with his back against a fiberglass box full of mini nuke components.

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me where Danse went?” he asked in response. He sounded tired in his own ears.

“Yes. And I promise I will. But before I do, I need you to listen to what I have to say. I’ve known Paladin Danse ever since I was an Initiate. He trained me, showed me the ropes… and when I screwed up, he taught me to dust myself off and move on. He’s earned my admiration, my respect and my friendship. I don’t care what Quinlan’s report says, I don’t care if he’s a machine or not… he’s still Danse.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Anthony wondered, pleasantly surprised.

“Because someone has to before you rush off and carry out Maxson’s orders without thinking about what you’re doing. Danse is the most selfless person I’ve ever met. I’ve watched him risk his own life based on nothing more than principle alone. That’s why I’m asking you… not just as a member of the Brotherhood, but as a human being… give him a chance. Let him tell his side of the story. If you’re not convinced by what he says, or somehow he’s become truly lost to us, then you do what you have to do.”

Anthony nodded without hesitation.

“Alright. I’ll hear him out.”

Relief washed the desperate expression from her face, and she unexpectedly hugged Anthony.

“Thank you. That’s all that I ask.”

He returned her embrace.

“Off the record… I was never going to hurt him. You know I wouldn’t.”

 

*

 

_“Danse, please, stop this!” she begged, getting to her feet. “We need all this equipment! Sir, please, listen…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the dialogue pertaining to the actual Blind Betrayal quest, I did it as word-for-word as possible while still having it flow the way I wanted (i.e. verbatim with a couple minor tweaks). Unfortunately I couldn't find the save I made before the quest, so I had to use YouTube to look up the dialogue sequences and not all the options were the ones I would've chosen. Even so, I'm pretty proud of how it turned out.


	4. No Matter What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony searches for the man he loves, unaware that Elder Maxson is tracking him to ensure he follows his orders.

Anthony swallowed hard as he sidled up towards Listening Post Bravo. He could see that Danse had re-activated the pre-war defense turrets, but two well-placed shots from Righteous Authority took care of that without incident.

Moving silently into the entrance, Anthony was dismayed to realize the only means of ingress was the elevator. So much for the element of surprise. Though, it occurred to him, perhaps sneaking up on Danse wasn’t the best idea in this situation.

The cursed thing rattled and screeched as it lurched down to the lower level. The doors opened with a faint ding, and Anthony loosed several shots to take down a Protectron as it moved to confront him. Even as it fell, he could hear a second one, all whirring gears and monotone warnings to any “non-combatants.”

A few scattered laser shots zapped towards him from the robot’s hands, but all missed. Anthony didn’t miss. Righteous Authority struck true and downed the second Protectron as easily as the first.

“Danse?” Anthony called out, standing up once he was sure there were no more adversaries. “Sir? It’s me, it’s Kostin. I’m not going to shoot. You know I would never shoot…”

He trailed off, deciding he might be putting the Paladin more on edge than he already must be. Sighing, he found his way through a small cave and into the next room. Danse was sitting slumped in the corner, his own laser rifle resting on his lap. His eyes were closed and Anthony thought he might be sleeping until he started to talk.

“I’m not surprised Maxson sent you. He never liked to do the dirty work himself.”

Danse’s voice was exhausted and emotionally spent. He sounded even more defeated than he looked, and fresh anxiety coursed Anthony as he put down his rifle and sat beside his friend. Danse didn’t look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anthony implored, trying to sound as gentle and free of judgment as he could.

“Because I didn’t know.” Danse still didn’t raise his head or open his eyes. “Until Quinlan got that list decoded, I thought synths were the enemy. I never expected to hear that I was one of them. If it wasn’t for Haylen, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. So what are your orders? Does Maxson even want me alive?”

A nagging thought came to him before he answered.

“How could you not know you were a synth?”

Danse moved slowly to pull a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his flight suit. They were silent as they both lit lit one for themselves, and only after he’d taken a long drag and exhaled again did the Paladin answer.

“It doesn’t make sense to me either. It just feels like a cruel joke. I remember being a child, I remember growing up in the ruins… everything. I… suppose they programmed that all into my head. I mean… I feel like I’ve been in control of my entire life, making my own decisions and determining my own fate. Even though the proof states I’m a synth, I don’t feel any different than I did before. I still feel like a human.” Danse paused. “Why does any of this even matter to you? You’re obviously here to carry out Maxson’s orders. Does he even want me alive?”

Anthony sighed, smoke curling from his nose and mouth.

“No,” he admitted. “But… I’m hoping there’s a way out.”

Danse shook his head.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Look, I’m not blind to the fact that we’re good friends and this must be very difficult for you.” The irony wasn’t lost on Anthony that Danse was practically paraphrasing the man who’d ordered his death. “I wish Maxson had sent someone else. But that doesn’t change a thing. I’m a synth, which means I need to be destroyed. If you disobey your orders, you’re not only betraying Maxson, you’re betraying the Brotherhood of Steel and everything it stands for. Synths can’t be trusted. Machines were never meant to make their own decisions, they need to be controlled. Technology that’s run amok is what brought the entire world to its knees and humanity to the brink of extinction. I need to be the example, not the exception.”

Anthony wasn’t sure he was buying this.

“If you really feel that way… why did you run in the first place?”

Danse snuffed out his cigarette and lit another one before answering.

“The moment I learned the truth, I knew my life was in danger. I’m a soldier, so self-preservation kicked in… I needed to regroup and assess the situation. Once I got here, and I had some time to think… I realized I’d just made everything worse. I should have stayed on the Prydwen and accepted the inevitable. Like I said… I need to be the example. Not the exception.”

Anthony shook his head, grinding out his own cigarette butt. He didn’t light another one, though. Nervously he reached out with his hand, using it to gently turn Danse’s head to face him. Two pairs of brown eyes met, one fraught with anxiety, the other dark with sadness.

“The empathy that you’re showing me… it’s a human emotion.”

Even as he said it, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Danse just looked at him with an expression of despair for a long moment. Eventually he pulled Anthony’s hand from his face to stand up and start pacing like a caged animal.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’ve made my decision.” His words rode on the thin smoke trailing from his mouth. “I’m ready to accept the consequences of my true identity. Maxson’s ordered you to execute me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand in your way.”

Anthony couldn’t accept what he was hearing. Slowly he got to his feet, watching Danse shifting impatiently before stopping to rest, leaning face-first against the cracked wall. The sudden realization was like he had been stabbed in the gut-he knew why Danse was acting so strange. It was so obvious: Danse couldn’t emotionally process the knowledge of his origins.

The Paladin wanted to die.

Starting to tremble, like he so often did when he was anxious or sad, Anthony bit his lower lip and shook his head as he desperately tried to think of something, anything, to help his friend.

“Is there any way out of this?” he asked, already knowing how Danse would respond.

“We both know that this is the right thing to do.” Danse’s voice was the quietest Anthony had ever heard it, and it was laden with pain. “If you refuse to follow Maxson’s orders, you’re undermining everything the Brotherhood stands for. I can’t allow that to happen on my account.”

Anthony tried to be strong, but his voice shook just as much as his body.

“No.” The Paladin’s head snapped up to look him in the face. “I won’t do it, Danse.”

Surprised flashed his companion’s visage.

“I can’t believe you’d risk your life just to keep _me_ alive. Why would you do that for me?”

_Because I love you._

The thought came to him, but wouldn’t reach his mouth. So he stalled.

“What do you mean, ‘risk my life?’”

“If Maxson learns that you’ve disobeyed a direct order to save the life of a synth, he’d have you executed. Why would you risk that for me?”

No going back, now. He tried to gather his nerve… but in the end, he couldn’t say it. So he went for the lighter version.

“I’ve already lost my family. I don’t want to lose my friend.”

Amazingly, the light returned to Danse’s eyes when he said this. Somehow, Anthony had gotten through.

“You’re right,” Danse whispered. His voice held the same awe as if he’d discovered the answer to all the questions in the universe. “How could I have been so blind? I should consider how my death might affect the people that care about me. People like you and Haylen. Perhaps… now that you’ve opened my eyes… I can consider my next move.”

Anthony couldn’t help the enormous smile of relief that burst on to his face, or the fact that he immediately lunged forward and hugged Danse as tight as he could. The Paladin took a second before hugging back, clearly stunned by this action.

“Whatever you decide to do, I’ve got your back,” Anthony promised.

After a moment that couldn’t have lasted nearly long enough, Danse gently pushed him away. Anthony’s joy evaporated soon after.

“Thank you my friend, but I have my own path to follow. The only clear choice is for me to leave the Commonwealth. The sooner I make for the border, the sooner I put this behind me. Take my holotags. Use them to prove that your mission was a success… or Maxson will just send someone else to hunt me down.”

Sliding them from his neck, Danse pressed the small metal tags into Anthony’s hands, clasping them tenderly. Anthony gave him a pleading look, but it was only met by a remorseful smile. At that point, words would only fail them.

 

*

 

_Even as Haylen begged, Asher came charging back into the room, tackling him. His broken ribs were jarred from the impact, and he was bowled to the ground with a sharp gasp from the pain. So incapacitated, he could only lay on his back gasping for breath, even after the other man got off of him._

 

*

 

If looks could kill, Anthony would be dead before he hit the ground. Those piercing blue eyes bored into his brown like industrial drills, driving into his skull in unbridled rage. Anthony could feel his anxiety overrun him, sending a rush of adrenaline and endorphins through him. He was probably about to die.

“HOW _DARE_ YOU BETRAY THE BROTHERHOOD!”

Maxson’s booming voice echoed across the landscape. His eyes never left Anthony’s.

Danse took a step forward, brave to a fault like always. If he was even intimidated by the Elder at all, he certainly didn’t show it.

“It’s not his fault, sir. It’s mine.”

“I’ll deal with you in a moment,” Maxson spat, the words charged with loathing. “Knight! Why has this… this _thing_ not been destroyed!?”

Anthony could only blurt out the first thing that flashed through his head.

“How did you find us?”

Maxson growled menacingly as he strode forward.

“When I sent you to execute this _machine_ , I suspected you’d have difficulty following my orders. Now that I’ve arrived, it appears that my instincts were correct. What did it say to you that made you betray the Brotherhood!? _Why_ is it still _alive_!?”

He couldn’t help himself. Decorum, the Codex, and traditions could all blow him.

“He’s still alive because you’re wrong about him!” Anthony yelled, putting as much force into his voice as he could. If need be, he would die fighting Maxson to protect his friend.

“‘Him?’” Maxson snorted, his voice laden with disgust. “Danse isn’t a man, it’s a machine… an automaton created by the Institute. It wasn’t born from the womb of a loving mother, it was grown within the cold confines of a laboratory. Flesh is _flesh_. Machine is _machine_. The two were _never_ meant to intertwine! By attempting to play God, the Institute has taken the sanctity of human life and corrupted it beyond measure!”

Frustration radiated from Danse like heat.

“After all I’ve done for the Brotherhood… all the blood I’ve spilled in our name, how can you say that about me?”

Maxson’s response was an intolerant hiss.

“You’re the physical embodiment of what we hate most. Technology that’s gone too far. Look around you, Danse! Look at the scorched earth and the bones that litter the wasteland! Millions… perhaps even billions, died because science outpaced man’s restraint! They called it a ‘new frontier’ and ‘pushing the envelope,’ completely disregarding the repercussions! Can’t you see that the same thing is happening again!? You’re a single bomb in an arsenal of thousands preparing to lay waste to what’s left of mankind!”

“That’s insane,” Anthony spat, cutting Maxson off. “He’s dedicated his life to _protecting_ mankind!”

The Elder ground his teeth.

“Is that what _it_ told you? How can you trust the word of a machine that thinks it’s alive? A machine that’s had its mind erased, its thoughts programmed… its very _soul_ manufactured. Those ethics that it’s striving to champion aren’t even its own. They were artificially inserted in an attempt to have it blend in to society.”

Danse looked at his feet briefly.

“It’s true. I was built within the confines of a laboratory, and some of my memories aren’t my own. But when I saw my brothers dying at my feet, I felt sorrow. When I defeated an enemy of the Brotherhood, I felt pride. And when I heard your speech about saving the Commonwealth… I felt hope. Don’t you understand? I thought I _was_ human, Arthur. From the moment I was taken in by the Brotherhood, I’ve done absolutely nothing to betray your trust, and I never will.”

Nothing was having any effect; Maxson was only steeling himself further, unwilling to listen to their reason. In that moment, when before he’d admired the strength of the Brotherhood’s young leader, Anthony hated him with every fiber in his body.

“It’s too late for that, now. The Institute has chosen to grant you life. You simply should not exist. I don’t intend to debate this any longer. My orders stand.”

Danse turned to offer a grim smile.

“It’s alright. We did our best… You convinced me that I was wrong to be ashamed of my true identity… and I thank you for it. Whatever you decide… know that I’m going to my grave with no anger and no regrets.”

“Touching,” Maxson jeered sarcastically. “Either you execute Danse, Knight, or _I_ will. The choice is yours.”

_Oh, God, no._

“After all the sacrifices I’ve made and all the battles I’ve fought for the Brotherhood, you need to listen to me!” Anthony bellowed. He wasn’t having any of this. “You owe me that much!”

Maxson sneered at him: “Very well. I’m listening.”

“Whether he’s human or not, Danse saved the lives of _countless_ Brotherhood soldiers. Now, it’s time you saved _his_.”

Anthony would wonder for the rest of his life whether he’d finally gotten through, or if Maxson had simply gotten sick of butting heads with him.

“You’re a stubborn man,” the Elder ceded. “So. It appears we’ve arrived at an impasse. Allowing Danse to live undermines everything the Brotherhood stands for, yet you _insist_ that he remains alive… which leaves me with only a single alternative. Danse. As far as I’m concerned, you’re _dead._ You were pursued and slain by this Brotherhood Knight, and your remains were incinerated. From this day forward, you are forbidden to set food on the Prydwen, or speak to anyone from the Brotherhood of Steel. Should you choose to ignore me, know that you’ll be fired upon immediately. Do we understand each other?”

“I do,” Danse nodded. “Thank you for believing in me, Arthur.”

The snide, hateful look burned brighter in Maxson’s eyes, so much so that Anthony thought his gaze might set the Paladin on fire.

“Don’t mistake my mercy for acceptance. The only reason you’re still _alive_ is because of _him_.” The Elder jabbed a finger at Anthony with these words. “I’m returning to the Prydwen, Knight. Take some time, say your goodbyes, and then I expect to see you there. We still have the Institute to deal with.”

With that, Maxson spun around and marched away, presumably in the direction of a vertibird that was waiting for him somewhere. Anthony turned to Danse and watched in shock as the ex-Paladin let out a long, shuddering breath and sank to his knees. He’d been just as afraid as Anthony the whole time, but hadn’t let Maxson have the satisfaction of seeing it.

Anthony crouched beside his friend. “Danse…” he started, but had no idea what to say afterwards.

“It took a hell of a lot of guts to stand up to Maxson like that,” Danse commented, his voice weary and exhausted.

Anthony rested a hand on his shoulder: “Friends take care of each other… no matter what.”

Despite everything, when Danse raised his head, he wore a tired smile.

“That they do. Which is why I’ve decided to stay here. I didn’t plan on spending the rest of my days at this old listening post, but it’ll have to do. Besides, you’re still going to need my help, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you wander the Commonwealth alone. Now… you’d better get back to the Prydwen. In the meantime, I’ll start making this bunker more livable. If you ever need me… I’ll be right here.”

 

*

 

_“Jacob… Jacob, look at me… I can’t imagine how hard this is on you… but please stop. Destroying our medical equipment won’t solve anything. At least you were here to comfort him as he… as he passed. That’s all anyone ever wants.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the dialogue all stems from the ingame conversations. Good thing Anthony has Charisma and Intelligence scores of 9.


	5. Embedded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony and Danse finally have THE conversation, and it's bittersweet in that it starts out bitter and ends out sweet just the way it should :)

Anthony knew he was supposed to be looking for a missing girl in a synth colony, but right then all he could think about was the smell of the sea.

He remembered this place a little-before the war, it had been called Bar Harbor, and his parents had often taken him vacationing here as a child. He’d climbed trees, gone swimming in the surf. He would go fishing with his father out on one of Maine’s many scenic lakes. They’d always get lost and need directions on the way, and once they were there the mosquitos had a feast. But some of his fondest memories were still here.

Returning now, after two hundred and ten years, some of the natural beauty was still present. The sun peered at him through the trees, lighting the thin morning mist and casting everything in a golden sheen. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked out on the ocean. Watching the waves push the surf into the soft sand, for a moment he could almost imagine that nothing had changed.

Sighing, he knew he didn’t want to fool himself. He was sitting with the sleeves of his jumpsuit tied around his waist, holotags on top of his undershirt and feet sheathed in his favorite combat boots. He’d cut his hair right before embarking on this mission, and the soft breeze felt good, gently brushing his scalp.

Closing his eyes, Anthony laid back in the sand, relishing the feeling of the sun soaking into his skin. He only got to enjoy it for about two seconds, though, because right then Danse started screaming in his sleep.

Concern replaced his earlier feelings, and Anthony quickly climbed to his feet and rushed over to where his friend was writhing inside a twisted bedroll.

“Danse! DANSE!” he yelled, shaking him awake. “Hey, it’s alright, just a dream.”

Danse didn’t sit up right away, but rubbed his face with both hands. He was drenched in sweat.

“Anthony,” the ex-Paladin acknowledged, his breathing beginning to slow but still heavy. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Anthony replied with a friendly smile. He sat down on top of his own bedroll, still looking at Danse. “At least you got some sleep at all, right?”

“Sure,” the other man muttered, clearly not meaning it. “Ready to get moving?”

“Soon. It’s not too much of a hurry… I just want to enjoy the landscape a little. I loved it here as a kid.”

“It certainly has an appeal to it,” Danse agreed as he untwisted his bedding and stood up. His expression suddenly turned extra-serious. “Since we have a moment… I have something… personal I’d like to discuss.”

Surprised, Anthony got to his feet too, untying his uniform so he could pull it on the rest of the way. They could dress as they talked.

“Are you okay, Danse?”

“I’m sorry.” Danse shook his head, only adding to Anthony’s confusion. “I really thought this would be easier to talk about. There’s so much I wanted to say, but I don’t know where to start.”

Anthony had a hunch he knew where this was going; it had only been a few days since Maxson’s shit-fit at the bunker, and Danse hadn’t said a word about it until now.

“Take it easy, Danse,” Anthony smiled, doing his best to sound reassuring. He could sense that his friend really needed him. “Whatever it is, I’ll help you work through it.”

Danse paused for a moment as he zipped up his own flight suit. When he started again, his voice was uncertain and had a hint of anxiety behind it.

“I don’t know if anything will help me work through it. I’ve spent my entire life… or at least what I perceived as my life… following a plan to shape my own future. But… since my banishment, I feel lost… almost like I exist without purpose. For the first time since the moment I signed up with the Brotherhood, I don’t have all the answers. I don’t have a plan. And it scares the hell out of me.”

“What you’ve gone through would throw anyone for a loop,” Anthony reassured him. “You’re just confused.”

Danse’s expression changed, and he knew he’d said exactly the wrong thing.

“You’re damn right I’m confused.” His whole body was written with frustration as he tied his boots. “I’m a machine that thinks like a human who was trained to hunt the very thing I’ve become. Don’t you understand? Everything I had, everything I _knew_ is gone. In the span of a few hours, my identity was ripped from me and my world turned upside-down. At least what you had was something tangible… something real. Your wife, your son… they were living, breathing humans who loved you and cared for you. Those sons of bitches who created me couldn’t even be bothered to implant memories of having siblings or parents. I don’t even know how much of my past is artificial and how much is real. Can you even imagine that? I started out as nothing, and I’ve ended up as nothing… and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.”

Anthony swallowed hard at the mention of his family, but forced the feelings away. He needed to be here for his friend, not lament his own cruel twists of fate.

“I’m truly sorry,” he replied, forcing himself to still look and sound like he was in control of his emotions. “I guess I never realized how deeply this affected you.”

Danse got quiet again when he said this. Anthony watched him, strapping on the chest plate of his combat armor.

“I appreciate that. I suppose you’re right. Maybe I’m just missing the point. My life’s starting over, and I need to come to terms with everything I’ve lost and everything I’ve gained. Which includes… something important you’ve made me realize.”

They were quiet for a moment as they climbed inside the frames of their power armor. Snapping it down closed behind him, Anthony held his helmet under one arm and watched Danse shift his body nervously before continuing.

“I… don’t know if it’s friendship… or some anomaly in my programming. After all, I’m not really human. But… whatever it is… I can’t deny that I’m feeling closer to you than anyone else I’ve ever met.”

The nerves in Anthony’s chest tingled anxiously and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was now or never. _Oh, God._ He took a deep breath and forced himself to say what he’d been thinking all along.

“I… feel the same way,” he admitted, his voice trembling embarrassingly. God, this was nerve-wracking. “I’m only… I’m only hoping it’s… more than just… friendship.”

There. He’d said it. Now it was out in the open, and he could never take it back.

They just stood in silence for a long, awkward moment, staring at each other. Danse clearly couldn’t believe he’d said it. Anthony couldn’t believe he’d said it, either. Finally the ex-Paladin swallowed and broke the uncomfortable stasis.

“Are you saying you’re… in love with me?” His voice betrayed how scared he was to say it, too. Oddly, that made Anthony relax a little. Danse shook his head, eyes turned to the ground, now. “This doesn’t make any sense. After everything the Brotherhood taught you, how could you be in love with… well… a machine?”

Anthony’s knees were weak and he felt choked. Swallowing hard, he found himself sitting down against the ruined wall of what had been a cabin. They’d set up camp beside it. Surprisingly, Danse sat next to him. Swallowing again, he came up with an answer.

“If you were just a machine, would we even be having this conversation?”

“I don’t know. I’m not certain what the Institute embedded into my brain to handle things like this. God… if I was human, wouldn’t this be a hell of a lot easier?”

Anthony shook his head.

“You’re not a machine. In fact… you’re more human than most people could ever hope to be.”

“You don’t know how much it means to me to hear you say that. Look… I’m not going to lie to you. You’re going to have to be patient with me. Coming to terms with these… well, _human_ feelings is going to be a very difficult journey. But if we can tackle those obstacles together… I think that this… us… we could last a very long time.”

Their armor was too bulky and awkward for them to try and kiss, but that was fine for now. Anthony knew he was too nervous for that yet anyway. Instead they leaned against each other, the sides of their heads resting together and just sharing the close space between themselves. Slowly, Anthony slipped his armored hand inside Danse’s, and an idiot grin found him.

“God, I can’t believe this is real,” he admitted. “I thought about it for so long… you’re the first good thing to happen to me since I woke up.”

“But you didn’t say anything.” His new boyfriend’s voice wasn’t accusatory, he was simply stating a fact. “Was it discipline?”

“Yeah, but there was a healthy mix of fear, too. I didn’t have any reason to believe you wouldn’t reject me on the spot until recently.”

“Anthony… you should know… I think I felt the same way for as long as you have. But… my training, Decorum, all those other rules… I couldn’t even admit it to myself. And besides, it would have been inappropriate for me to get involved with a subordinate. But over these past couple of weeks, I’ve realized how much you truly care for me. You’re the reason I still have any hope.”

Anthony slowly moved his head, rubbing against Danse’s soft, thick hair in a motion of affection.

“Remember when we were going through the Glowing Sea this last time, and you asked me why I still stick around after losing my family.”

“I recall that conversation, yes.”

“Well… when I said it was because of the BoS, that was only half-true. The other half is because of you. And now… now that you’re going to be with me… God. It’s that much more true. You don’t just keep me alive. Just knowing that you love me, it makes me want to _live_.”

To his surprise, Danse shifted his sitting position. He understood why when the metal fingers reached up and stroked across his cheek, so lightly it almost tickled. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his throat.

“I’m not fragile, you know.”

“It’s just… my armor… I don’t want to hurt you. But I think I could so easily if I’m not cautious.”

“That’s alright,” Anthony soothed. “We’ve got all the time in the world. Take as much as you need, I’ll be right here through it all.”

 

*

 

_He shook his head, not wanting to hear it. He couldn’t stand the words coming out of Asher’s mouth. No. “No!” he tried to yell, but it came out as a moan. His chest couldn’t handle much else right then. But he couldn’t stop. “No. No, no no no…” As if saying it over and over again would change anything. As if it could bring his husband back to him. “No.” He passed out from the pain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, another short chapter, but I thought this part deserved to be on its own. Its roots are in the start of the quest that leads you to the Far Harbor DLC map. As someone who lives in New England and loves to vacation in Maine, Far Harbor is one of my favorite Fallout maps to date, so I thought it would be a great place for Danse and Anthony to admit how they really feel.
> 
> Next chapter: LIBERTY PRIME KICKS INSTITUTE ASS! :D


	6. Washed In Dark Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knight Kostin and Liberty Prime stomp down synths together on their way through Cambridge, after which he invades the Institute with his comrades. All the while his mind wanders back to the night before in Listening Post Bravo, where he and his boyfriend had their own adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I suck at writing combat, but I didn't want to skip over the incredible awesome epic ASS-STOMPING that Liberty Prime does because that's literally the most funnest part of the game. I loved him in Fallout 3 and I loved him even more in Fallout 4. Even though my writing doesn't do him justice, I still had to put him in.

Anthony could feel the entire airport holding its breath as he walked across the metal grating. But he wasn’t… he was breathing hard, trying to steady himself for what was coming. Holding the beryllium agitator in front of him, he took the last step forward and slotted it home with his armored hands.

Closing the hatch, the boots of his power armor slammed heavily on the stairs as he descended again, headed for the control panel. Proctor Ingram and Doctor Li were watching him with bated breath.

“Let’s do this,” he said loudly, sounding much more steady than he felt. Of course it helped that he was wearing his helmet and they couldn’t see how nervous he really was. But for once, it wasn’t in fear. It was _anticipation._

Slamming his palm into the glowing button, he looked up at the monstrous machine surrounded by scaffolding.

 **“FUSION CORE… ACTIVE”** Liberty Prime growled.

Now.

This was all happening, _right now._

 **“LIBERTY PRIME… FULL SYSTEM ANALYSIS.”** It flexed its hands, almost as if it felt just as excited as they were. **“ALL SYSTEMS… NOMINAL. WEAPONS HOT. MISSION: THE DESTRUCTION OF ANY AND ALL CHINESE COMMUNISTS.”**

As it “spoke,” Liberty Prime reached out with its powerful hands and simply pushed the scaffolding away from itself as easily as tearing paper. Anthony’s breath caught in his chest.

**“PROBABILITY OF CHINESE VICTORY: IMPOSSIBLE.”**

He wanted to laugh. Liberty Prime had been programmed to think synths were Chinese Communists. Grinning behind his helmet, he hefted his laser rifle and followed behind the massive war machine as it left Boston Airport. A stream of Brotherhood soldiers marched around him.

“Ad Victoriam!” they sounded off, their voices one in a chorus of forceful defiance.

Rain pounded down on them as they moved up the crumbled streets, splashing against the visors of their helmets and coating their metal boots in a layer of sticky muck. But it didn’t matter. Rain or shine, the Institute’s death was marching towards them.

Reaching East Boston Prep, a swarm of synths teleported in with a blinding crackle of bluish-white energy. Their energy weapons zapped towards the war machine, but it was less than a pinprick. More like a friendly tickle.

Liberty Prime was certainly not threatened by them-it turned, titanium feet gouging new scars in the demolished road, and pounded a Mark 28 warhead into them as if spiking the winning touchdown of a football game. Anthony laughed hysterically despite himself. The eight-year-old inside him couldn’t believe he was really doing this.

Proceeding in this fashion, with the massive robot simply bombarding the hapless synths with nukes, the BoS warriors barely had to fire their weapons at all. Anthony didn’t mind. He was so caught up in the adrenaline rush and sheer, well, _awesomeness_ of this moment that he was perfectly content to just march behind and watch the destruction unfold.

Then they came to the river.

**“OBSTRUCTION DETECTED. PROBABILITY OF MISSION HINDRANCE: TWENTY TWO PERCENT.”**

And with that, the massive robot simply stepped into the water and kept marching.

It wouldn’t be as easy for Anthony and the other soldiers; their power armor would make them sink to the riverbed instantly. Without hesitation, though, they closed the filters to their helmets, switched on the independent oxygen supply and charged after their war machine.

The strides of Liberty Prime’s thick legs caused the water displacement to nearly knock him off his feet, but he held firm, pushing through it as fast as he could. When he finally climbed up onto the bank and out of the water, Liberty Prime was already demolishing the next wave of synths with no effort.

Even so, there seemed to be more of them this time. Laser rifles and miniguns flared against the Institute’s foot soldiers, reducing them to scrap metal and piles of ash. As soon as the war machine was moving again, they advanced behind it, but with no significant resistance. Any individual synth was ripped apart by Liberty Prime’s massive laser cannon.

Rounding a street corner, they faced a monument.

 **“MEMORIAL SIGHT RECOGNIZED. PATRIOTISM SUBROUTINES: ENGAGED.”** It raised its right fist to its chest in the same salute the BoS used among themselves. **“HONORING THE FALLEN.”**

Thankfully, though, it barely paused for this. After only a short moment they mobilized again, a vertibird buzzing alongside the robot’s head. Undoubtedly, Maxson was inside.

Reaching the plaza at the end of the street, another mass of synths burst into their field of view around the war machine’s stomping feet. As soon as they materialized, their Institute rifles flared with blue energy, having no effect against the rugged armor plating. Liberty Prime responded in the typical manner.

“Area secured,” one brother confirmed, mere seconds after the synths’ arrival.

Marching steadily up the street, Anthony could see that the vertibird had landed. Maxson and his command retinue were disembarking, engaging synths that had locked on to their position. He felt the need of his brothers and sisters to rush forward and defend their comrades, but their discipline held them fast. Even if it didn’t need it, they were assigned to defend the war machine.

As they got closer, though, he saw that they weren’t synths, but super mutants. And the vertibird hadn’t landed. It had crashed. The body of one of the pilots had been ejected against a railing, and was thrown once again when Liberty Prime hurled a Mark 28 into the disgusting monsters, blowing them back to hell where they belonged.

At least some of the passengers had survived, including Maxson. They joined the retinue of Knights who advanced behind the robot, hefting Gatling lasers and Fat Man launchers. With such a mix of weapons, even without Liberty Prime, Anthony didn’t doubt they’d be able to take on a small army of synths and emerge victorious.

And then a behemoth charged for them.

Anthony stared, laughing with a mix of fright and awe, as Liberty Prime curled its fingers into fists and began beating the monster. Even as mighty and terrifying as a super mutant behemoth was to behold, it couldn’t stand up to the full military strength that the Brotherhood’s war machine embodied. Only two blows felled the creature.

Even more annoyingly, a few hundred feet forward brought them to where a group of raiders had holed up. A missile pounded into Anthony’s chest, knocking him onto his back. The concussion of the blast made his nose bleed inside his helmet, but other than some minor bruising his armor plating kept him safe.

“Okay, _now_ I’m pissed,” he grunted, climbing to his feet and using the VATS overlay to blow the head off the raider who’d shot him.

Shortly following, another well-placed Mark 28 warhead obliterated the rest of the raiders. Unfazed, Liberty Prime turned and began advancing again, crunching rubble under its feet with every booming step. They proceeded after it unmolested for several hundred yards.

Another vertibird was buzzing along with them now, presumably to provide air support. Anthony was surprised that Maxson didn’t flag it down to be picked up like the all-important bastard he was, but then realized they were so close now that it didn’t make too much of a difference either way.

Rounding a bend, they were suddenly in the CIT quad. The vertibird set down to disgorge yet more Initiates and Knights as the war machine pegged nukes at the synths teleporting in around them. Gripping Righteous Authority tightly in his armored palms, Anthony climbed some scaffolding to take up a position of supporting fire.

A synth suddenly teleported in a foot away from him. Startled, Anthony bashed the stock of his laser rifle into its body, sending it staggering back. Before it could recover, he sent three quick shots into its face.

Liberty Prime’s laser cannon flared a continuous beam of red into the concrete, turning it molten. All of a sudden the ground simply exploded under the assault, leaving a small crater that they could use as a means of ingress.

“On me!” Maxson was shouting at his team, hefting his Gatling laser against his chest before leading them into the crevice.

Scowling, Anthony followed. He hadn’t wanted it to be Maxson, but apparently the Elder was hell-bent on leading the charge. Anthony wasn’t sure he’d forgiven his commander for banishing Danse, but he had to put that aside now. The Institute’s destruction required his utmost focus.

 

*

 

_“I wish I could be there with you,” Danse murmured, leaning in._

_Their mouths found each other again for a long kiss. Anthony’s arms slid up to wrap around his frame, pulling him in securely, while his own hands cradled his boyfriend’s handsome face._

_“I know,” Anthony whispered, his voice heavy with fear. “God, Jake, I wish you could too.”_

_The heat of their skin touching and the desperate uncertainty of what the next day would bring made Danse need Anthony all the more. It didn’t matter that the bunker was poorly-ventilated, or that the bed frame holding up the ancient mattress threatened to give out. The Institute was going to be assaulted tomorrow, and Anthony might not come back._

_There was so much he wanted to say, but predictably the words wouldn’t come to him. So he would have to make do with kisses and physical love. The first time they’d had sex was a weird, awkward fumble of unrestrained hunger. Danse hadn’t really known what he was doing, either._

_But now, it was for them what it had always been meant to be. They held to each other, passion and tenderness and love rolled together and made tangible. Danse ran his hands over Anthony’s shaved-down scalp, lightly brushing his fingers across that beautiful face and down to the neck. Anthony moaned into his mouth._

_“Anton.” Danse breathed the word against his boyfriend’s jaw, their foreheads touching. “You’ll come back to me tomorrow.”_

_It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t an order, either. Danse said it as a simple statement of fact, even though he knew Anthony wasn’t invincible._

_“I will,” Anthony nodded, rubbing a cheek into his rough stubble. “I’ll always come back to you.”_

 

*

 

A yellow warning light was cycling on the wall in front of him, but Anthony wasn’t sure why. There weren’t even any alarms going off until they rounded a corner to a wider part of the hallway.

Ingram had entered the facility with them-they needed her technical skill. It was her job to get the teleport running so that they could escape after placing the charge inside the reactor.

“The mission is proceeding as planned, Paladin. Well done,” Maxson nodded at him. “Our next target is the reactor. If anything tries to slow us down, I’m ordering you to destroy it… man or machine. Once we reach our target you’ll need this.”

The fusion pulse charge was thrust into his hands. Wordlessly, Anthony fit it into a storage slot in his armor.

“Ingram, you’re to remain here and teleport us out when the job is done. Get that thing working. Kostin, take point.”

“Ad Victoriam, Elder,” Ingram saluted before turning to the console terminal.

Anthony moved around the terminal to descend the stairs, Righteous Authority against his thick chest plate. He tried to activate the elevator, but it denied him access.

“Blow me,” he growled, turning away and seeing a door he hadn’t previously noticed. Sliding it open, he found himself in an area that looked like it had suffered some kind of explosion in the past. Wires and old cables dangled from gashes in the scorched walls. He turned to the Knights: “Proceed with caution.”

Descending more stairs, he slowly pushed open the rusted door at the bottom and advanced into the hall. Through a broken window, he saw the cluster of synths and defense turrets a few seconds before gunfire broke out on both sides. Swearing vehemently, Anthony darted from target to target, hitting accurately and incinerating more than a few of them.

Glancing around as they moved to the lower platform, Anthony noted the level of dust and realized this part of the Institute had been abandoned for a while. The rubble and general damage also told him there’d been some sort of catastrophic equipment failure, and a fire or explosion had occurred and forced them to shut it down.

It was a roundabout route with yet more sets of stairs to reach the factory floor. A mix of Gen 1 and Gen 2 synths were the main resistance, though Anthony easily took care of them by making use of the VATS overlay in his helmet’s head-up display. A Gen 1 charged him with a melee weapon, but he bashed its skeletal face, sending it careening down the stairs. Two shots killed it before it even hit the bottom.

Reaching the factory floor, Anthony wiped dust from the screen of a wall-mounted terminal and used it send a prototype Sentrybot after the cluster of synths taking positions on the far end of the floor. The ensuing chaos was nothing if not entertaining, and Anthony smiled as the synths were eliminated without him needing to do a thing.

It wasn’t difficult for Maxson to terminate the Sentrybot with his Gatling laser, and afterwards they crossed the factory floor unmolested. Dropping down through a hatch, Anthony led them through what must have been a service tunnel that eventually terminated in a small control room. The door leading out of it opened right into the Bioscience labs.

 

*

 

_Danse nuzzled Anthony, pushing his face into his boyfriend’s neck to feel the strong pulse under his mouth. Kissing it, Danse reached a hand down, slowly dragging his fingertips over Anthony’s flank and feeling goosebumps of anticipation rising under them._

_Eventually his palm closed around Anthony’s prick, stroking slowly. He would make his boyfriend crave him, building up the tension as slowly as he knew how. And when they finally broke, it would be incredible. Just thinking about it made a bead of fluid form on the end of his length._

_Anthony’s strong fingers were rubbing through his hair as he kneaded his teeth gently against the ridge of the Paladin’s clavicle. God, but Anthony loved his hair._

_“It’s so soft,” his boyfriend had smiled once. “And there’s so much of it.”_

_Danse smiled as he remembered before shifting so he could plant a line of kisses down Anthony’s sternum between the lean but hard pectoral muscles. His big, rough hands were busily working as he did-rubbing Anthony’s inner thighs, cradling his balls, still stroking him. It wasn’t enough to send him over, but it would certainly keep his anticipation heightened until Danse could get to the real work._

 

*

 

Anthony hesitated for a moment before pressing the button. He could only access the override through the director’s terminal… but he didn’t want to face his son. Reminding himself that it was a necessary evil, he tapped the small red cylinder with an armored fingertip and swallowed hard as the elevator began to smoothly and quietly descend.

The stretch of pristine white hallway the doors opened to seemed endless, and in the silence following the combat he’d just partaken in, the metal boots of his power armor seemed deafening. Anthony clutched Righteous Authority to his torso, wishing not for the first time that Danse was with him. If he had been, Anthony wouldn’t have felt so anxious as he did now.

At the end of the ominously empty corridor was a second elevator, which he entered due to lack of other options. He’d never liked elevators, even before the war, but this one seemed like he was climbing into the mouth of some hungry beast that was eager to swallow him up whole.

Stepping out of it, he noted with some confusion that the glass chamber he’d seen the copy of his son in was now empty. Shaking himself, he knew he didn’t have time to worry about that. He just had to find the terminal and initiate the override so that they could access the reactor. Sighing to himself and shaking his head, Anthony stepped away from the glass panel and turned to exit the room.

Climbing the stairs and turning, Anthony felt dread flood him when his eyes met Shaun’s. The Institute director was lying in his bed, looking pale and weak, and against his better judgment Anthony slowly walked over.

“I didn’t expect to see you again. Come to see the reactor, have you? We got it working without you…”

Anthony swallowed hard, removing his helmet so that they could speak face-to-face.

“There’s no going back, Shaun. The Institute has to be stopped.”

“And you’ve decided this for yourself? Or has it been fed to you by the corrupt societies above ground? It’s not enough that I lay here, dying… Now you plan on what, destroying everything? Tell me, then. Under what righteous pretense have you justified this _atrocity_?”

Though his voice was quiet, Anthony could hear the disbelief and hate in it as clearly as though the words had been screamed instead. He slowly shook his head.

“There’s no other way. The Institute can’t be trusted.”

Shaun closed his eyes for a long moment.

“But the Brotherhood of Steel… they can? Well… none of it matters now, I suppose. You’ll accomplish your task, and ruin humanity’s best hope for the future. The only question left then… is why you’re standing here. Is it regret, or did you just come to gloat?”

Anthony took a deep breath.

“Shaun… if you help me, fewer people will die. Will you…?”

“I’ll have no hand in what you’re doing. Now go. Leave me.”

Anthony felt stung, but he certainly couldn’t blame Shaun for feeling so betrayed. In a way, he had been.

Not wasting any more time, Anthony turned and moved to the terminal. Keying in the password, when it booted up the first available option made his eyes fly wide.

**[Engage Evacuation Protocol BD-2]**

Evacuation? The thought had never occurred to him. Sure, the Institute had done some horrible things, but that didn’t mean the people living and working in it were all pure evil. Without hesitating, he clicked on that tab, and instantly a calm female voice began relaying a pre-recorded message.

Afterwards, he hit the security override and sent the order for all the synths to shut down. Pushing back from the terminal, Proctor Ingram’s voice came over the intercom telling him that he could access the reactor and that reinforcements had arrived. Moving quickly, Anthony slid the door open and entered the stairwell. There was no time for regrets.

 

*

 

_Danse had to pause briefly to retrieve the lube, but he smoothly transitioned back to the task at hand. Rubbing a small glob of the translucent jelly into the spot he’d soon be invading, he shifted up again to kiss his boyfriend. At the same moment Anthony’s hand closed around him, making him groan deep in his chest._

_Just one finger, first. He slowly slid it in up to the knuckle, being gentle but still passionate in his motions. Electric tingles pulsed in his chest, anticipating. But not yet. He would take his time, make sure his boyfriend was more than ready. After a sufficient moment, he escalated slightly by putting in the second finger after adding more lube. You could never have too much lube for this._

_Anthony moaned again, reflexively pushing closer to Danse, who growled pleasurably in turn. Just knowing how good he could make his boyfriend feel was enough to fuel the flames of his lust. He could feel his cock leaking._

_Gasping for breath when they broke the kiss, he debated briefly between a third finger or just going for it. Pulling his hand free, he coated himself in lube, just resting the end of his length at the entrance for a moment. Slowly relaxing, Danse gradually rested his full weight on top of Anthony, melting into another impassioned kiss._

_Not daring to close his eyes, he gazed into his boyfriend’s, seeing them full of love and desire. Tensing from being unable to hold back any longer, he guided himself in, as slowly and gently as he could so that it wouldn’t hurt. Anthony took a sharp breath in at the start, giving a shudder of pleasure._

 

*

 

Holding his breath, Anthony cautiously stepped into the reactor control room. His Geiger counter gave the occasional soft click, letting him know that the radiation danger was present. Reaching a terminal, he was forced to hack into it, but when he gained access he was glad he did. There was a function to not only deactivate the turrets, but to purge the excessive radioactivity in the chamber.

Motioning for his team to move up, he swung open the metal double-doors at the back of the chamber. Advancing into the service tunnel, they descended a flight of stairs to reach the floor of the reactor chamber through another set of doors. Pushing them open, Anthony was surprised to be met with synths that hadn’t been deactivated.

A nearby Institute scientist started to raise a pistol, but before he could fire Anthony rammed his metal-clad fist into his adversary’s head, seeing blood paint the inside of the protective suit’s visor. The body dropped limply.

Around him, weapons began to go off from all directions, and his own laser rifle only added to the deafening wall of noise. A brother in power armor was killed when a lucky shot from an Institute rifle went through his eye lens, a synth was incinerated by Maxson’s Gatling laser.

Righteous Authority punched a hole through the chest of a scientist before Anthony swivelled to target a synth with an automatic Institute rifle. A grenade exploded, shaking him and disrupting his aim, but when he turned back the synth had already been brought down with a well-placed burst from a minigun.

“Move up,” Maxson barked as the smoke began to clear.

Tactically, they advanced from the decontamination chamber and into the reactor hall itself. Clomping up the stairs and pulling the pulse charge from his storage slot, it wasn’t hard to find the control terminal. After keying the commands and checking the radiation levels, Anthony watched the core spin to a halt before sliding open the hatch and stepping into the housing.

As soon as he’d magnetically locked the charge in place, Anthony scrambled out of the reactor housing and back over to where Maxson was standing.

“I think it’s time that we left this place to its fate.” Maxson thumbed his comms relay. “Proctor Ingram, do you copy? Our mission is complete. I need you to transport us out of here immediately.”

 

*

 

_Danse paused for a moment, letting Anthony adjust before he began to move again. His boyfriend spasmed under him, reacting to the intense sensations. It heightened Danse’s own pleasure, and he gave a passionate push to rub the nerve cluster at Anthony’s prostate gland._

_“God,” his boyfriend breathed, mouth pressed to Danse’s ear. “Right there… you’re going to be the death of me…”_

_“I’m okay with that,” Danse rumbled affectionately before thrusting in again with a grunt. Anthony cried out in ecstasy, bucking against him and causing a surge of electric enjoyment to course his body._

_Finding a rhythm, Danse knew that after such buildup there was no way he could make this go for as long as he wanted. But he’d definitely make it good before he lost himself. The right mix of power and precision with tenderness and loving passion would make Anthony see stars._

 

*

 

In a blinding flash of bright blue and white, Anthony suddenly found himself back at the teleportation chamber. He moved out to the console to find not only Proctor Ingram, but the small synth who’d been made to look like 10-year-old Shaun.

Upon sighting him, the boy rushed over and grabbed his armored leg.

“Please, Dad, don’t leave me here!” Shaun begged. “I want to go with you!”

Dumbstruck, Anthony started to debate the matter in his head, but then the synth looked up. He was practically identical to how Anthony himself had looked at that age, and in his eyes Anthony saw that the kid really believed what he was saying.

“Alright… you can come with me,” he ceded, moving one hand from the rifle to rest it on Shaun’s back.

Not immediately, though, which Anthony was grateful for. He wasn’t even sure why he’d said it, but at least he’d have a moment to reflect before returning to the Prydwen. He followed Maxson into the teleportation chamber, and before he knew it his eyes flashed white again and he was suddenly on the roof of the Mass Fusion building.

The last red rays of the sun were showing over the horizon, making the city look like it had been washed in dark blood. A handful of Knights with standard laser rifles and one with a minigun guarded them, while in front of him a scribe was setting up the detonator.

“Paladin,” Maxson commanded him, letting the rest of the order hang in the air without being said.

“Yes, sir,” Anthony nodded dutifully, reaching out and pressing the button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, but I was actually thinking about stuff like this the first time I beat the game with the BoS Nuclear Option ending, and that's how I was inspired to write the story. I was imagining my character and Danse having a really drawn-out night of passion before he left on his mission, knowing he could be killed. And getting that inspiration made me decide that I wanted to expand my own understanding of the fluff around the plot, and now YOU are lucky enough to read my awful narrative :)
> 
> To make up for a couple shorter chapters, I had this one be extra long, but also because I thought the Institute's fall should be done in one stretch.


	7. Exploring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anthony introduces his son to his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately after the last chapter was long, this one is kind of short, but it's not on purpose, I swear.

It only took a few seconds before the remains of CIT were sent into oblivion. The shock wave rippled through the defiled grave that was Boston, sending clouds of dust sweeping between the buildings. Anthony just stared silently, watching the mushroom cloud bloom in the evening air. The Institute was no more.

After that, everything was just a gray haze. He went through the motions with Maxson, something about further discussion later on the Prydwen. People congratulating him. Flying on a vertibird, the radiation levels in the air higher than usual. Reaching the Prydwen, and then after that there was nothing until he woke up the next morning.

Anthony groaned, stretching painfully and feeling all his joints pop. His whole body was sore. Rubbing his face and opening his eyes, he rolled onto his side and discovered he’d simply dropped onto his bunk and passed out last night. Though his hood was pulled down, he still wore all of his BoS combat armor. No wonder everything hurt.

“God,” he groaned again, rolling off his bunk and pulling the armor from his limbs. Only once the hard ballistic plates came off did he feel the sweat that had built up on his skin underneath. “Ah, I’ll get a…”

He trailed off, realizing he’d been about to mutter something in reference to his boyfriend still being alive. Even with no one seemingly nearby, he didn’t want to risk it. Still though, thinking about Danse tenderly rubbing his muscles to work the knots out made him smile.

Slipping off his orange and gray flight suit, Anthony stretched again, arms over his head and bending backwards. As he relaxed with a silent yawn and began digging through his footlocker for clean boxers and a fresh undershirt, he suddenly remembered Shaun. What would he do about Shaun?

God, what would _Danse_ say about the boy? What could he possibly do?

“Anyone who smiles and says ‘good morning’ can blow me,” Anthony grumbled under his breath as he changed into his clean underclothes and his Brotherhood fatigues.

Slipping his feet into his most worn-out and comfortable pair of combat boots, Anthony clomped down the stairs and into the mess. He was surprised to see Shaun sitting at a table with two Squires, a boy and a girl, who were enthusiastically questioning him about the Institute.

“Did you ever see them make synths?” the girl asked.

“Well… no, most of the time I was just in the same room.”

“Did they do experiments on you?” the boy wondered, fidgeting with excitement.

Before Shaun could answer, Anthony strode over to the table and placed a hand on it in front of the boy.

“Squire.”

“Pa-I mean, Sentinel Kostin,” the Squire stammered. He and his friend sprang to their feet to salute in unison: “Ad Victoriam, sir.”

“Ad Victoriam,” he nodded. “Don’t you have duties to attend when you’re done with your breakfast?”

“Well… yes, sir. I’m sorry. I just thought it was cool to meet someone who escaped the Institute.”

Before he knew what he was doing, Anthony smiled.

“Yes, that’s my son.”

“Wow! I mean, yes sir. I mean, he’s so lucky!” the Squire burst out. He looked over at Shaun. “Boy, you’re lucky! Sentinel Kostin is your _dad_!”

A shy smiled crossed Shaun’s handsome features.

“Yeah. He rescued me from the Institute. I always knew someday my real dad would find me. And now he did.” Shaun’s dark brown eyes, a mirror of Anthony’s own, found him. “Dad, can I be a Squire too? I want to be in the Brotherhood of Steel too someday, just like you.”

“Uh…” Anthony tried to say, at a loss for words. He cleared his throat. “Um… well, we’ll talk about that later… we um… we have to go somewhere first. I’m going to show you something.”

“Okay,” Shaun nodded.

Anthony watched the two Squires leave, the girl whispering to the boy: “I can’t believe the Sentinel is Shaun’s _dad_! He’s _so_ lucky!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle after hearing that. Turning back, he saw that Shaun had already gotten up and come over to him.

“So um… did you sleep alright?” Anthony asked, not really knowing what to say to the boy.

“I guess,” Shaun shrugged. “It’s noisier here than it is in the Institute, and there’s always lights on.”

“Yeah, we do a lot of work up here,” Anthony nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll find a quiet place for you to sleep.”

“We’re not staying here?”

“Well, I’ll have to come back here sometimes… I’m just… you know, I’m not really sure yet,” he admitted. “Let’s just do what we’re doing today, alright?”

“Okay, Dad,” Shaun nodded with a bright smile. “Are we exploring?”

“Kind of,” Anthony decided. “You’ll see when we get there.”

Procuring a child-sized helmet that was used for when Squires were sent out on a rare field exercise, Anthony donned his power armor and took Shaun out onto the flight deck.

“Lancer!” he called out, seeing a pilot walking towards a vertibird.

“Sir,” the pilot nodded, putting her fist across her chest in salute.

“At ease, soldier. What’s your queue?”

“Just to collect food shipments from Abernathy Farm, sir.”

“Perfect,” he smiled. “Could you do me a solid and drop us off at The Slog on your way? This is my son, I rescued him from the Institute and so I’m showing him some of the less dangerous parts of the Commonwealth.”

“Affirmative, Sentinel,” she nodded. “Will you require return transport?”

“Yes, make it 18:00 hours,” he decided.

They climbed into the vertibird, Shaun tugging on the dented steel helmet. The boy plunked down on the bench beside him, clicking shut the harness.

“This is cool!” Shaun exclaimed, his eagerness bright on his pale face.

Anthony couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, we’ve got some neat equipment in the Brotherhood,” he agreed. “There’s plenty of cool stuff for me to show you.”

The vertibird took off. As the Commonwealth flowed below them, Anthony watched Shaun’s face grow more and more awed. At that moment, he knew why he’d said Shaun was his son without thinking-because he was. In spite of everything, somehow he’d been given a second chance. It filled his chest with warm hope.

Lovingly, he rested a hand on Shaun’s-his _son’s_ -shoulder. He’d lost all that time, he’d lost Nora, but at least his son had been given back to him, after he’d seemed to lose everything else. And now, he was bringing his son to Listening Post Bravo, where Danse was waiting. His son and his boyfriend would meet.

Shaun might not understand right away, but he’d be able to accept Danse because he’d accepted Anthony as his father. And though Danse might not be able to think of Shaun as _their_ son, he would still love Shaun, because of Anthony’s love for the boy. And they would be the family Anthony would have never had the chance to build otherwise.

Thinking these things, he enjoyed the vertibird ride a lot. Sure, when Shaun was a baby Anthony had pictured more of taking him in the car for a Sunday drive, but this would do. Even though they weren’t talking, he felt like he was a little closer to his son just by sitting with him and enjoying a ride in the morning.

When they stepped off the gunship at The Slog, a couple of the Ghouls gave him curious looks, but nobody said anything. Anthony gave the short version of what was going on to Wiseman, excluding the fact that he was using the settlement as a convenient way to reach the listening post without arousing suspicion.

“Are they sick, Dad?” Shaun asked as they walked through the trees, safely out of earshot.

“Well… they had radiation exposure, but it’s just their skin,” Anthony shrugged. “On the inside, they’re people, just like you and me.”

It only took a few minutes to reach the bunker, and once inside he explained that even though the elevator would be shaky and make odd noises that it was still fine to ride on. Even so, he was relieved once they’d fully descended. If Shaun shared his fear of elevators, he gave no outward sign.

“Jake?” he called out, stepping off the elevator. “I came back, like I promised…”

“Who’s Jake?” Shaun asked.

“He’s...” Anthony started to answer, but stopped when he heard the distinctive clomp of power armor boots resonating off the concrete floor.

Danse wasn’t actually running, but he was certainly moving quicker than his usual steady pace. Their suits of T-51 and T-60 power armor certainly didn’t make it easy for them, but they still managed to find a way to lean into each other and share a long kiss. Anthony could feel Danse’s unspoken anxiety draining, and they were both engulfed in a flood of relief.

“Anton,” the ex-Paladin breathed, his brown eyes bright with overwhelming joy that Anthony had survived. “God… you _did_ come back.”

“I told you I would,” Anthony smiled, kissing Danse again. “Even after everything, if I’d been shot in both legs I would have still crawled back here to you because I love you.”

Danse chuckled, a sweet rumble from inside his chest.

“I didn’t doubt your love, I just knew that logically your armor could only stop a certain percentage of shots-”

Anthony interrupted his boyfriend with a third kiss, bringing his armored hands up to the sides of Danse’s head.

“You know you’re cute when you worry, but worrying sucks, so stop doing it so much,” he teased. Then, stepping back and putting his palm behind Shaun’s shoulders to gently usher him forward, Anthony smiled wider. “And… I brought him home. I brought Shaun home from the Institute. He found us right before we left, and Ingram took him back to the Prydwen.”

Alarmingly, Danse immediately lost his relieved expression and suddenly wore a look of some intense emotion that Anthony couldn’t read.

“But… no, I…” Danse stuttered before swallowing and letting a breath out through his nose that was cut short into a huff. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

“Stay here,” Anthony commanded, turning to his son.

“But Dad-”

“It’s okay,” Anthony insisted, even though he wasn’t sure it was the truth.

Ignoring the boy’s protests, they moved to the far end of the other room.

“What the hell is going on right now? Have you lost your senses?” Danse demanded in a furious whisper. “After everything that’s happened, you just took him with open arms and brought him here without even asking me?”

Anthony shook his head, confused and sad that Danse couldn’t understand.

“I… Jake… he was reprogrammed… he thinks he’s my son, he doesn’t know, I couldn’t just leave him there… God… you weren’t there, you didn’t see… he just ran up and hugged me so tight, and wouldn’t let go. I couldn’t just leave him,” Anthony repeated, his voice shaking.

“Well why not?” Danse obviously only had the barest grip on his emotions. “You saw what your _real_ son did, and now you brought that _thing_ with you… even though he’s a…”

Realizing what he’d been about to say, Danse trailed off, slowly lowering his eyes to the ground and closing his mouth. Now, he just looked ashamed of himself. Anthony still couldn’t believe the things his boyfriend had said, though. They were hurtful enough to make him choke. The need to defend his son rose anger in his chest.

“He’s a _what,_ Danse?” Anthony spat. “Go on, say it! Say it to me, just like how Maxson did when I kept him from _shooting you in the face_!”

Danse closed his eyes, his head hanging. Anthony couldn’t stop himself from glaring.

“I’m sorry,” the ex-Paladin whispered, and with that Anthony felt his rage melt. “I… it just came out.”

Anthony sighed, knowing that Danse wasn’t lying. After the absurd amount of training and conditioning, his boyfriend couldn’t help thinking that way.

“It’s alright,” he decided, resting a hand on Danse’s shoulder plate. “But… it’s just like you told Maxson a few weeks ago, about feeling human… he doesn’t know any better. He believes he’s my son. And… after what’s happened in these last few months… getting a second chance is such an incredible gift. Jake, I don’t know if you’ll ever see him the way I do… but… for all intents and purposes, he _is_ my son. I couldn’t leave him there to die. So just… even if you’ll never think of him as your own… accept him as _mine._ That’s all I can reasonably ask from you.”

They were quiet for what seemed like an eternity before Danse raised his head with a sigh.

“Alright. I promise I’ll make the effort. Just… it could take some time.”

“That’s fair,” Anthony nodded. He reached out to embrace Danse despite it being made awkward by their armor. “But I mean… you did have a little bit of a point. I was wrong not to talk about this with you before bringing him here. I was just so excited.”

“Anthony I… I don’t always have the right words,” Danse mumbled, a streak of embarrassment in his tone. “And there’s no way for me to soften this… in all honesty, it’s highly doubtful I will ever learn to love your son. And I’m sorry for that. But like I said, I promise I’ll make my best effort with him. And I’ll do my best to treat him with the same level of respect I have for you.”

“Thank you,” Anthony smiled as Danse returned the hug. “I hope this isn’t too much for you, but I’m returning to the Prydwen at 18:00 hours… I want you to take him to Far Harbor, that little shack I built on the island with the hermit’s cabin… you’ll both be safe there. And I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess you could read all of Part 2 as a standalone, or read parts 1 and 3 without it. Personally I'm glad I wrote it, because it adds some nice backstory to my characters and in my mind make it all the more devastating for Danse that Anthony dies (especially the way he did). I know I said he's a nervous wreck who just pretends to be calm, but honestly that's how I am myself. Hopefully I wrote him likable enough that you feel bad for his death, too. If you miss Anthony let me know in the comments, and gear up for Part 3!


End file.
